we're not yet drunk on July showers,
we're yet to dance in August rains,
muddy and cool with pools of dreams
pooling around necks and ankles,
cloud-kissed flowers,
green hooded lanes.

we're not yet dizzy on thundering verses,
we're yet to feel the cold walk down our eyes,
assuring lines of certainty,
a definite landing on collarbones,
half-swallowed heaven's curses,
half-heard storm's lies.

we're not yet awake,
we're yet to bloom
the sun keeps us at bay,
warmth drives us away,
we're sheltered in each other's wake,
ribs forming a dripping room.